


Discomfort

by XzadionOmega



Series: Capturing Moods [1]
Category: Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Flash Fic, Language of Flowers, Tsviets Live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 07:39:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3760039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XzadionOmega/pseuds/XzadionOmega
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shelke and Nero in a greenhouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discomfort

            “That one.”

            Shelke followed the line of Nero’s arm and laid her gaze on a bouquet of cup-shaped white flowers, still beaded with water. “Tulips,” she told him. Nero took a step closer to it, poking the flower, as if expecting it to give some kind of resistance. It bobbed back and forth, swaying in the scarce breeze, but did not push back. “They’re fragile.”

            “Clearly. They wouldn’t have survived if we’d had them.”

            The greenhouse’s humidity was bringing up beads of sweat to brush up against Shelke’s hair. Although Tifa had taken care to tie Nero’s hair up off his neck, he was demonstrating equal amounts of discomfort in the heat. Or maybe that was just the rhododendrons and lavender in the air.

            “You’re right,” she responded, making the utmost effort to keep her voice even. No one had mentioned DeepGround in months, but Nero wanted her to remember how the fragility of flowers would have been out of place. As far as Shelke could recall, the only flowers they’d ever had were false Forget-Me-Nots on a short-lived Researcher’s desk. “They wouldn’t.”

            His eyes shifted from the flowers to her. “You’re uncomfortable now.”

            Shelke met his gaze, equal to him for once and forever in their shared lives. “So are you.”

            “Less so,” he haughtily replied before striding away from her.

            Shelke followed, half a step behind him. “I would argue moreso.”

            In front of a display of red and white roses, Nero whirled around on her. “You would argue falsely.” They were silent for a long while, staring at the flowers before them. Shelke held her mouth in a thin line, determined that she would not be the first to speak. “… Perhaps its equal.”

            “I would be willing to make that concession.” The words slipped out of her mouth slowly. A display of poppy’s—red-orange under a hot spotlight—had caught Shelke’s attention. Nero’s eyes reflected the color well.

            Nero’s gaze was avoiding Shelke’s and anywhere that she might be looking. Instead, he kept his eyes on a bright bucket of peonies. “… I’m supposed to apologize at this point, am I not?”

            “It would not be genuine.  I won’t demand it from you.”

            “But this is the correct point, is it not?”

            “Yes.” Shelke continued to walk through the greenhouse; Cloud and Tifa had gotten away from them and she was seeking to at least get back into their range of sight. On their way back to their chaperones, Nero trailed Shelke past a variety of flowers that he could never hope to identify by himself. 

**Author's Note:**

> I got my flower symbolism from "About Flowers" .com. Have a look-see if you're interested.


End file.
